A Tale of Sacor City
by Aereal
Summary: A post-MS fic. When tragedy strikes within the castle, Karigan is yet again called on to do her duty for her King and country. But can she help others, when she does not know if she can help herself?
1. Chapter 1

_**Warning: This is a post-Mirror Sight story - Spoiler alert!**_

_**A/N: I'm not KB, I'm sure that's obvious. The GR world belongs to her. I don't think anyone will sue me.**_

* * *

CHAPTER 1

A month had passed since the winter solstice. A long month of snowstorms that worked themselves up into furious blizzards, and then swirled their way out to sea, only to be replaced by driving rains; and the wind, never abating, howling incessantly all the time around the castle and driving flurries of snow and ice through every crack and crevice.

A month of bitterly cold days when the servants throughout the castle scurried to keep the fires well tended, so that its inhabitants might stave off the chill. In every room, from the scullery to the audience chambers, from the servants' chambers to the Royal apartments, from the stable boy's room to the Castellan's dining room. The kitchens, with their large hearths and steaming stews and fragrant hot bread, became a favourite stopping place for many, and more than a few dodged a slap from the spoons of the cook's assistants, as they tried to clear a space to move from stove to oven to bench and back.

In the city below the castle, a handful of elderly citizens had died from exposure to the cold, and the King deployed extra soldiers to roam the city in search of any of the poor who might be need of help. Young and old lined up at designated corners across the poorer quarters of Sacor City to eagerly receive a bowl of steaming broth, for supplies in the city were running low. Not just supplies of food and provisions, but, equally essential, of wood and fuel.

Most of the Lord-Governors and their attendants had remained cooped up in the castle, unable to leave as planned after the Night of Aeryc celebrations and subsequent meetings. And a few guards on duty had to be treated for frostbite, one earning a few jeers from his comrades about the location of said injury.

All agreed it was the coldest winter in living memory.

Finally the inhabitants of the castle had awoken one morning to a fine, calm day, with weak sunshine that glittered on the snow. But although that morning brought clear skies, the afternoon brought tragedy.

Queen Estora had gone into labour. Although the Menders said she was not due to give birth for another month, the babes seemed keen to come into the world. But as the labour dragged on, it became obvious to Master Mender Vanlynn and Ben that the position of the twins was making it difficult. After many exhausting hours, they were finally born, in the dark pre-dawn of the following day. One girl and one boy. One healthy, one very weak from the long birth and with a failing heart.

Shortly after the birth Estora collapsed on the bed, exhausted, with a young Mender by her side. Zachary rushed in, having been told earlier that his endless pacing during the labour distressed the Queen and banished to the corridor outside her chamber. Another Mender held the baby girl, cooing softly at the small bundle with a wisp of golden hair and blue eyes. But all other eyes were on Master Mender Vanlynn and Ben, who both leant over the tiny brown eyed boy. The infant's breathing was alarmingly shallow, and it seemed that the inhabitants of the bedchamber held their breath too with every exhalation.

Zachary stood by Estora's bedside in a daze, seeming unable to decide whether to unclench his fists to comfort her, or go to the Menders and make them work harder. He remained motionless, his eyes glued to Ben's face, which showed deep concentration. But finally, the Menders lowered their heads. The tiny royal heir had died.

Fastion and Ellen glanced at each other as Zachary strode out of the chamber, the door bouncing off the wall in his wake. Fastion strode after him as the other members of the room turned their attention to the new mother and her babe.

As dawn broke the King sat motionless in his armchair, a glass of whisky untouched beside him. Fastion, who had watched him sit this way for some time, opened the door to talk quietly to Allis outside, who returned in a short time with Captain Mapstone. Laren moved quickly to his side and squeezed his shoulder. "Oh Zachary, I am so very sorry". He seemed to hardly notice her presence. She gave his shoulder a shake. "Zachary". This, spoken more sharply this time, earned his childhood friend a weary glance, before he returned his gaze to the fire. Laren sighed. "It's not your fault you know." There was a lengthy pause, during which she searched for what to say. "You should go to your wife, and your daughter." Even this elicited no response. Laren found herself growing impatient. "Moonling!" His cheek twitched. "The Gods may have chosen to take a life, but they have also given one. They have blessed you with a daughter!"

She stepped back when he suddenly stood and rounded on her. "The Gods have seen my heart and having found it wanting, they have taken my son." His eyes blazed with anguish. Laren placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly but he shook it off. "Leave." It was evidently useless to argue with him in this state. She would go to Estora instead with congratulations and condolences.

* * *

Karigan sat by the window in her room, looking out the small slit over the snow-covered courtyard. Mara had stuck her head in earlier, to see if she wanted to come to the kitchen with the others for breakfast, but she waved her away, saying she wasn't hungry.

Honestly, she didn't know _what_ she was. News of the night's events had reached Mara quickly via Donal, but Karigan was too shaken to tease her friend. The Queen had given birth, and one tiny babe had not survived. Of course she felt happiness for her friend, and for the kingdom having an heir (albeit a female one – Queen Isen had shown quite nicely that female rulers could match male ones, thank you very much).

But still the sorrow and guilt tore at Karigan's heart. Guilt for not being happy enough for her friend. Sorrow at the thought that nagged and yet eluded her mind, something to do with the name Cade still written on her arm; his face recorded by Yates but the memories eluding her more as time passed. Guilt that that sorrow could still not chase away her sorrow for Zachary. Guilt that, in some tiny corner of her heart, she wished neither royal infant had ever existed. And dread for the celebrations that would long outlast the mourning.

And she didn't want any of it. Had wanted for nearly a month now, as soon as she was well enough to ride out again, to ride away from all this. To ride home to Corsa into the arms of her father and aunts. To ride anywhere, really. But the weather had kept everyone imprisoned inside, and the cessation of the storms the previous morning had only brought a decree from the Captain that she was not to go riding beyond the castle grounds. Wait until she was stronger, Laren had argued. Reluctantly she agreed.

Karigan knew she needed to train for a time with Drent, in any case, to adapt to having only one good eye. She had discovered with relief earlier that Drent was the only person who did not react to her mirror eye, when she took the bandage off at his request. Did he see nothing at all, she wondered? Or perhaps no possible future bothered him? In any case it was a strange feeling, to be so eagerly looking forward to recommencing the gruelling training sessions.

Karigan stood from the comfy chair yawning and stretched, feeling her joints popping. Luckily although her new chamber was quite large, it contained a large hearth, a relic of its long-ago use as a meeting room. She moved about the room restlessly, past the side tables piled with letters of welcome, from many of the Riders and other friends within the castle. No letters had been arrived from without due to the snowstorms, but a letter was being delivered this very day to her father and aunts, informing them that she was alive and well.

She passed under the ornately carved ceiling rafters that joined two of the wooden pillars in the middle of the room. Past the bookshelves and the large wardrobe that still held very few supplies until the shopping expedition Mara had threatened her with. Stopping at her bed with the gaudy gilt headboard depicting a young girl and several frolicking unicorns, which she definitely could not change without hurting Garth's feelings. At least looking at it still made her smile. She sat on the edge of the soft mattress on top of the rumpled bedclothes, which were more a testament to her restlessness than any particularly long amount of sleep.

Her bonewood staff was propped against the wall next to the bed and she shook it to full length, feeling the cool wood soothing against her fingers. She had thought perhaps the light of day would bring some kind of relief to her disordered thoughts, but found the thought of actually facing people just made her feel worse. They either treated her with awe, like the newer riders, or knew little of what she had been through, like most other inhabitants of the castle. To the visiting nobility she was a vague curiosity but to many she was also a pretender who might challenge their ranks, with her knighthood, and if they looked her way at all they passed her with a sneer.

But the worst were Captain Mapstone and Mara who likely suspected her feelings for Zachary, and thanks to the king's reactions since her dramatic return she was sure they both knew he felt something a little out of the ordinary for her. The only people she felt safe around were the Weapons, who probably also knew a little too much but in true form never blinked an eye at the strange goings-on. Maybe in a few days she could ask Donal about renewing her staff training, she pondered.

Karigan sighed and stood, scarcely conscious of carrying the bonewood staff in her hand as she moved towards the door. With a last mournful glance at her warm chamber, she turned the handle, only to nearly run right into a solid black wall in front of her.

Fastion's mouth quirked up ever so slightly at the corner, but his eyes were serious. "Greetings, sister-at-arms. We need to talk".

* * *

**_I'm back! Thanks to Owlkin for her support as always._**

**_Please review, it keeps me writing!_**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

_Last chapter:_

_Karigan sighed and stood, scarcely conscious of carrying the bonewood staff in her hand as she moved towards the door. With a last mournful glance at her warm chamber, she turned the handle, only to nearly run right into a solid black wall in front of her. _

_Fastion's mouth quirked up ever so slightly at the corner, but his eyes were serious. "Greetings, sister-at-arms. We need to talk"._

* * *

Karigan followed Fastion silently through the castle corridors, the Weapon simply turning to lead the way after his startling declaration. Karigan was only dimly aware of being curious, mostly just glad to focus on his broad shoulders as they passed through the morning throngs. She wondered how Fastion managed to make every request sound like an order, but at least he had stopped calling her Sir Karigan. The corridors were busy, but the mere sight of a weapon was enough to make people give way.

At last they entered a large chamber and Karigan felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The last time she had come here was before the mission into Blackveil; a group of weapons led by Fastion had escorted her here in order to present her with her Bonewood staff, and she had that very day commenced training with it. An honour of which she was not insensible. But now only the stern black statues surrounded the room, the other Weapons and even the tables absent from the meeting hall.

Looking around, Karigan wondered what changes had come about by the departure of Colin Dovekey, and what fate had befallen him when he was judged by the Weapons for his treasonous actions. She wondered whether Tallman had much of a say in how the Weapons now acted; all their actions seemed almost predestined by their secret code. She doubted, much as she was honoured by them, that she would ever find out.

Fastion made his way to the far side of the room, passing through the circle of statues to sit on a small bench underneath the narrow window. Karigan felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as the onyx faces seemed to follow her movements. Motes of dust swam in the long stripes of morning sunshine, light that could have been from hundreds of years past. Time mattered not in the domain of the Black Shields. She sat next to him gingerly.

The man she once knew only as Granite Face looked at her, his gaze assessing. Finally he looked away again, making her wonder if she had passed the test. After a long moment he cleared his throat and spoke, his gravelly voice quiet.

"I remember the duel. Our duel". The statement stirred half forgotten memories and made her heart beat faster.

"As the…?"

"Eternal guardian, yes." He finished when her throat refused to work. She sat for a long moment in stunned silence.

"But it…"

"Hasn't happened yet. I know."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Are you lot always this psychic?"

He allowed a small smile. "Drent would be proud of your skill."

"So you haven't told him… but how… what do you remember?"

The questions came tumbling out, and she vaguely wondered whether her head or the tightness in her chest hurt more.

"How… I'm not sure." His expression softened for a moment. "I've studied your notes from your future experiences of course. Out of historical interest, as well as Tallman's request for the Weapons to familiarise ourselves with the… possibilities, shall we say."

She sat in silence as he appeared to gather his thoughts.

"And it appears I was there. So at first I naturally assumed that I was not remembering, but perhaps becoming somehow… sympathetic to your experiences." She watched his brow wrinkle as he admitted this. "But then, I started to remember other things. Memories of time as the Eternal guardian, events you could not have known of." His face tightened. She could only imagine what the early days of the Serpentine Empire had been like, and what it must have cost Sacoridia's most loyal servant to watch as his liege was beaten, his country torn apart, and his compatriots slaughtered.

He settled his face into his usual mask-like expression again and continued. "Then last night after I finished my duties, Westrion, God of Death and Patron of the Weapons appeared to me." Karigan raised her eyebrows. She knew very well who Westrion was and silently thought she would like to ask him why he kept depositing her all over time and space. Then again, some questions were perhaps best left alone.

"He… I saw…" Fastion paused, and Karigan understood perfectly; interactions with the Gods were unsettling and difficult to comprehend at the best of times. "There was a link between us. You and me. I can only assume … the God of Death has plucked out these events and placed them in my head. For some reason he wants me to know."

"And you have not told even the King?" she guessed. His grimace told her the answer to that question. "Oh," she said softly, as the rest clicked into place. Fastion, however loyal, could not bring himself to tell his liege that the God who came in the night to take his son had subsequently appeared before him. She knew enough of Zachary to know the pain he must feel right now. But at least, she thought, he and Estora could take comfort in each other, and in their baby girl.

Karigan suddenly felt rather small and alone. Slowly she rolled up her sleeve to reveal the name she had carefully re-written each time it faded. "And… Cade?" Fastion swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. "I can put a face to the name, and that is all. I'm sorry."

She sighed, and rolled her sleeve back down. "So, now what?"

The Weapon seemed to recognise this kind of question led to safer ground. He stood and she followed, feeling her legs coming back to life. "As you guessed, I have not told anyone else of this. Nor do I intend to. Obviously as I do not know the purpose of this information, I therefore shall not act further upon it at the present time."

Karigan merely nodded.

"But if you want to… talk… I could… perhaps listen."

Karigan's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you Fastion."

He looked nonplussed for a moment and then turned to lead the way to the door, walking back towards the Rider wing in silence. As they entered the main thoroughfare near the entrance to the Royal wing, Fastion paused and scratched his head. "Well I have to… that is… I'm on duty now so…" and abruptly nodded and then left.

Karigan walked the rest of the way to her chamber, fighting the strange urge to giggle.

* * *

Laren shifted her weight as she stood behind Zachary's chair. The meeting was dragging on as usual, and if it was not for Javian insisting she attend, she would be drinking tea with Elgin, or visiting the Queen and the little princess. The new Castellan seemed to think she could get Zachary "to come to his senses", as he put it, but really the time when she had that much influence had long past.

Zachary held himself stiffly, but standing this close she could see his hands tremble with barely suppressed emotion. It was, after all, only two days after his wife had given birth, but his duties as King could not wait.

Laren sighed as the argument came around in a full circle and began again, with Javian and the king arguing and Tallman occasionally commenting quietly. The three military advisors sat in a solemn row to one side, waiting for a chance to argue for their own interests, and on the other side Zachary's secretary Cummings scribbled frantically, oblivious to the growing tension in the room.

"Yes but your majesty, we need to mobilise more troops_now_. We need to prepare for war _now_. We know from our information that Second Empire is gathering forces to attack. They know our position and doubtless our strategies and current defences. We need to take them by surprise."

"Castellan, we do not have information. We have nothing except for…" _Karigan_, Laren finished silently. "We cannot, and I _will not_ put troops into the field and at risk until we know more of what we are dealing with."

"But Sire, this would be in the first instance merely a reconnaissance mission, not so very different from sending a delegation into Blackveil…"

He trailed off under the King's icy glare. "Gentlemen, this meeting is over," Zachary bit out, and stormed from the room. Laren spared the frustrated Castellan a brief "don't mention Blackveil, Michel", by way of explanation, before she hurried out after the king.

* * *

A soft knock on Laren's door some hours later announced the entrance of Mara. She told the Rider lieutenant to come in and offered her a cup of herb tea from the quaint green teapot that sat on the desk, which was accepted gratefully. They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the steaming hot beverage and watching the curling vapours that danced like graceful ghosts.

"She's still pretty distraught." Laren knew it was Karigan that Mara referred to; they were both worried about her. "I know she's going to have a hard time adjusting, but I just don't know how to help her," the younger Rider continued. "I try to talk to her, but she just seems to push me away. It's like she doesn't trust me any more."

Laren nodded in understanding. "Perhaps she just needs time. After all she's been through in Blackveil, and then during the time when she disappeared into the future…" She sighed heavily and Mara looked at her sympathetically. _Perhaps_, the captain thought, _she would not be so understanding if she knew of my interference between Karigan and the King_. But no matter the pain caused to them both, she would do it again if she had to. So much more was at stake than personal feelings, and sometimes she wished with a small amount of bitterness that Zachary would recognise that.

"I heard there was quite a crowd to watch Karigan begin training with Drent again today" Mara said. Laren was not sorry for the distraction from her pensive thoughts. "I can imagine," Laren laughed. "And… her eye? Any more problems with that?"

Mara shuddered faintly, though smiling in return. When she had looked for a moment too long at Karigan's mirror eye, she had seen an older version of Donal with his arm in a sling, playing with a small curly haired child. It was not an unpleasant image, but still unsettling. "Not many," she replied, "since Karigan wears the bandage all the time now. But there was the Light Horse Captain, who saw himself being dragged from the saddle by groundmites…" She paused and ticked them off on her fingers. "There was the cook who saw rows of houses in decay, and the servant from D'Ivary who claimed he saw piles of riches. The young green foot boy, who saw his neighbour stealing the family goat, and the two cousins of Lord Mirwell who evidently saw something but would only talk about flames. Oh, and Sophina," she finished by way of reminder. Laren nodded gravely. Sophina had seen just a glimpse of something in the mirror eye but it had set off a fit of visions from her ability, and the hysterical rider had to be carried to the mending wing.

"Do you know," mused Mara, "I think Queen Estora might have seen something as well. When Karigan attended the ceremony to honour the Blackveil expeditions, her eye patch slipped for a moment as she bent to receive her medal, and Estora looked shocked."

"Ah yes," Laren said thoughtfully. "She said afterwards it was discomfort due to the babies kicking, which we all thought possible, especially since they ended up arriving just days later. But I suppose her expression was odd, thinking back to it." She wondered what, indeed, the Queen had seen. Certainly any version of the future Karigan had relayed would indeed be dreadful to glimpse. She felt it weighing on her shoulders that now Estora, too, had so much to bear. She wondered not for the first time if she should have done more to keep her from finding out about Karigan, if she could have at least spared her that distress. But it was inevitable, she supposed, thanks to that conniving wretch Spane.

Mara took her leave, and Laren felt her bones creaking as she stood to give her a quick hug. They all gave each other comfort, she thought, and hopefully strength for what was to come. She plopped back into her armchair and sipped at her now lukewarm tea.

Her brooding thoughts turned once more to the King. Zachary certainly was going through all the motions required of a king; there could be no doubt of his loyalty to his country and his people.

But he had never been as distraught as this before and she was worried for him. For him, yes, and also for the country that was crippled by his sudden inability to act; by his unwillingness to cause any more of the pain he seemed to think would result from his actions.

The death of his newborn son, and his insistence on somehow blaming himself – on top of his guilt at Karigan's disappearance, and then his grief at her emotional trauma and isolation when she returned; it was too much for a man who had scarcely had time to recover from a near-fatal assassination attempt, a terrible betrayal and a reluctant marriage.

Gods knew she had tried to protect him. She had known the pain that could only ensue from his feelings for Karigan, and from the damage he could cause the country if he let those feelings lead him away from his duty. But Zachary was broken, and she did not know how to help him mend. She just hoped the Gods would find a way, and soon, for all their sakes.

* * *

**please review :-)**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far!**_

_**There is a snippet from Book 6 I have used in here… KB has given it out publicly but also stated it might very well be edited out of the book before publication. I hope the GR fans out there forgive me for using it – trust me, I needed all the help I could get to untangle the mess that is left at the end of MS! Anyway, if you recognise it, it's not my words**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Karigan groaned as she made her way slowly towards the castle, narrowly avoiding being run over by a carriage as she made her way up the narrow lane. The driver shook his fist but she didn't see it; she was too busy sputtering through a puddle of water from the wagon wheels that had sprayed her all over, adding a new layer of mud to her already filthy attire. This morning's training with Drent had reached new levels of torture. Yesterday, her first training since returning, had been as dreadful as she expected. A crowd had gathered to watch Drent knocking her to the ground again and again, targeting her blind side. They laughed at her frequent attempts to swing at him missing as she misjudged; she even thought she saw Flogger and his friends jeering.

But now she decided he must have taken it easy on her yesterday, as today was even more gruelling. The only mercy was that she had been told to train without her bandage on. She was grateful to not have to worry about the cloth slipping, and besides, it wasn't entirely comfortable. And Drent allowed her to spar against Weapons, since they all seemed as unaffected as he by her shiny silver eye. But she quickly found that just because the Weapons regarded her as a comrade, did not mean the black banded sword masters went easier on her. The bruises blossoming on various parts of her arms and ribs were a testament to that.

Sighing, she looked up towards the side entrance to the castle she approached. More carriages were lined up nearby with nobles ordering harried servants around while mountains of luggage and travelling provisions were loaded. It appeared the nobles were finally leaving for their home provinces.

She avoided their dirty looks as she squelched past them towards the Rider wing, thinking only of a long hot bath and then a nice nap.

* * *

_Smoky figures whispered, their forms flickering and rustling in spectral currents. They fingered her hair and patted her body as she lay curled beneath her blankets. They left cold touches upon her cheek and neck, as they whispered their stories._

Karigan woke with a start, cold shivers running down her spine.

She wasn't sure what had woken her, but the angle of the sunlight told her it was well past lunch time. A soft mewl came from near her feet, and ghost kitty gave her a disconcerting stare before jumping down from the bed and stalking to the door. He sat and looked at her expectantly. Karigan sighed and got stiffly out of bed. _Since when did she follow the orders of a cat?_

"What is it, kitty? Those ghosts talking to you as well?" The cat merely yawned and turned its back haughtily, pink nose almost touching the wood. Karigan rolled her eyes but opened the door. The cat streaked out past her, between the legs of the man who stood there. Fastion raised an eyebrow at her dishevelled state, almost smirking when she pretended to be displeased to see him.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here? Wait – I'll grab my overcoat," Karigan said, walking stiffly back to where it was slung over a chair, and surreptitiously attempting to smooth her messy hair. She was just thankful she had chosen to nap in her tunic and trousers.

They walked in silence again along the now familiar route.

* * *

Karigan sat next to the mute Weapon, wondering when exactly her life would stop being so weird. Slowly the sun began its descent into afternoon, and her stomach gurgled its complaint at missing lunch. She thought about walking out, wondered if he would turn and stop her if she got up, but she wouldn't seriously do that to this man, now one of her only friends.

At least the view from these long narrow windows was new, as they faced almost west, rather than the southerly aspect from her own chamber. This wing of the castle ran away from the main keep, having been part of the expansion during the time of Queen Isen. This particular room jutted out sideways in a slight "L" shape at the end of the wing, and Karigan noted that she could see along the side of the wing to the eastern courtyard, and, above that, the edge of the battlements.

As she looked up at the stone turrets, a dark figure with a billowing cloak came slowly into view, and stopped at the edge of the castle rooftop. Fastion grew, impossibly, even stiller, and suddenly Karigan understood. It was Zachary.

For perhaps half an hour they watched the equally motionless King, who simply gazed out at the view – then he simply turned and went out of sight again.

Karigan turned and opened her mouth to ask Fastion what, exactly, was the point of this exercise, but he held up his hand and began speaking instead. "Do you know why Weapons are not worried about your Mirror eye?"

Karigan took a few moments to recover from this unexpected question. She shook her head mentally; where Weapons were concerned, she should know better.

He took her silence as a negative and spoke again, his grating voice only barely audible yet echoing prophetically in the large room. "We believe the Mirror man acts on his audience's emotions, particularly fear. He feeds off it, you could say, to influence which visions to show. As Weapons, we have no fear. What will come to pass, will come to pass, and we will face it when it comes. By the grace of Westrion, we ensure all will be well for the kingdom. That is what we are taught at the Academy, and until recently, that is what I believed.

"You must understand, we Weapons are forbidden to speak of what we see and hear. It is a crime punishable by death. However… I am prompted by my newfound knowledge to speak with you."

Karigan simply stared at him.

"Will you agree to keep everything I say a secret? Completely. You must tell no-one."

"Y-yes of course," said Karigan, frowning. It was rather second nature for her by now to keep secrets.

The Weapon nodded, satisfied, yet tense, his next words seeming to be drawn out of him against his will.

"The King is paralysed by his emotions. Once tactically brilliant and confident, he appears to be allowing his guilt to rule him. He blames himself and his decisions for events that are affecting him, and therefore irrationally is refusing to make any new decisions. His advisors are losing confidence in him and…"

Karigan's temper flared. "You cannot ask him to be an unfeeling like you lot. He has always cared for his people, that's what makes him a good king, and what…" _drew me to him,_ she finished silently, immediately embarrassed by her outburst.

Fastion frowned and sadly shook his head. "No you mistake me. Can you imagine a group of animals? A herd of sheep perhaps?"

Karigan nodded, looking confused.

"Now imagine one of the sheep is injured, unable to move properly. The predators are circling; which sheep will they attack?"

"The injured one, of course. But I don't—"

"That sheep is Sacor City and the monarchy, crippled by Zachary's sudden indecisiveness. Forget what we know about Mornhavon returning in the future, forget even Second Empire; as soon as the Lord Governors get wind that the King will not move his army, how long do you think it will take for the hard-won peace to break? Let alone a jealous neighbouring country, of which we have a few. And, when civil war erupts, Sacoridia will be ripe for the taking when the Dark One emerges."

Karigan's face fell. She had nearly laughed at his terrible metaphor, but this story was far too serious. As usual, she hadn't grasped the far-reaching political implications of the situation.

"We are lucky that the Lord Governors were not party to recent Council meetings. But they will return in less than a month for the christening of the new princess, or at least send a delegate, and another round of deliberations will commence. And then word will spread like the wind. Remember, the King has enemies everywhere."

Karigan shivered, thinking of Lord Spane. "And the Weapons will not act?"

"It is not our place to act at present."

"And can't… Laren or someone talk to him?"

"She has tried, believe me. But he has shut himself away and refuses to see her privately. But he might just agree to see—"

"Me."

"Exactly."

Karigan sighed heavily. Talking to Zachary, with all the gut wrenching emotions that must bring for both of them, was the last thing she wanted to do. Then there was the issue of Cade, and although she had ever admitted their exact relationship, he must surely have guessed. And since she had actively avoided him before the birth, after his visit to her chamber, it was entirely possible seeing her was the last thing he wanted, too.

But her duty to him, and to her country, must come first as always.

"I'll try."

* * *

_**A shorter chapter but… events are gradually unfolding. **_

_**Will Zachary talk to Karigan? Can she help him? Please review and let me know what you think! The more reviews I get, the quicker the next chapter will appear – seriously! **_ _**As for what Estora saw – be patient, we will find out later on…**_


End file.
